


Limits don't exist for bards

by JinxxMarquette



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Competent Jaskier, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier overdoes it with his powers, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Necromancer Jaskier, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Worried Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, we love a bard that can do things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxxMarquette/pseuds/JinxxMarquette
Summary: Sometimes Geralt forgot that even powerful necromancers like Jaskier had their limits when it came to the number of frighteningly strong displays of power one could perform in under 24 hours. He was usually completely fine, a few hours of rest, a meal, and his bard was back to normal in no time.Which is what he kept telling himself as he tried to force down the panic swelling in his gut as he carried Jaskier’s limp body in his arms.Jaskier is your friendly neighborhood necromancer who likes to pretend he doesn't have limits, and Geralt likes to pretend he's not fussing. They make a great pair.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 16
Kudos: 326





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes Geralt forgot that even powerful necromancers like Jaskier had their limits when it came to the number of frighteningly strong displays of power one could perform in under 24 hours. It had taken him a long time (longer than it really should have) to realize that Jaskier was capable of defending himself. His bard was much more competent than Geralt gave him credit for, and exceedingly fierce. He stood up for himself and nothing got in the way of him protecting the people he cared about. Geralt especially. And how weird it was to be so dear to someone else, especially someone as wonderful as Jaskier. 

Trusting Jaskier was never an issue for Geralt. But letting someone he loved knowingly go off into danger (very hypocritical of him, he knows) was different. Geralt was learning to have faith in his bard. And with that came having faith in Jaskier’s abilities and him knowing his limits. The only problem with that is that Jaskier very well knew his limits and often chose to ignore them for the sake of others. 

The first time he had overexerted himself Geralt had been worried (the witcher would never use the words ‘panicked’, ‘freaked out’, or ‘fussed’ but Jaskier would and that’s exactly how it happened). 

It was in the wake of a particularly difficult hunt that had ended up involving five drowners instead of the promised two. Jaskier had ended up jumping in to help after Geralt misplaced one of his swords in the swamp mid battle. The witcher was in the midst of retrieving his blade after the drowners were suitably ripped to shreds when he noticed the odd silence and turned to Jaskier.

The bard was pale and shaking, looking to be on the verge of collapse. Geralt had rushed to his side and Jaskier had greeted him with a smile that paled in comparison to his usual fare.

“Jaskier, what’s wrong? Did you get hurt?” Geralt searched Jaskier’s body for any visible wounds, running through his mind of all of the necromancer friendly medical supplies in his pack. Jaskier patted his arm reassuringly. 

“I’m fine darling, just a little bit…. overexerted. It happens sometimes when I’ve used too much of my powers in one day. Give me a few hours rest, some food, and I’ll be good as new.” Geralt was cautious to listen to him, his bard had a known history of hiding injuries from fear of ‘inconveniencing’ the witcher, and eyed Jaskier wearily, still searching for signs of blood. Eventually he had to give in and Jaskier had been right, a little rest and food and the next morning Jaskier was just as full of boundless energy as usual.

It wasn’t the last time Jaskier overworked himself. Sometimes it wasn’t even the matter of a difficult hunt, Jaskier had a tendency to use his powers for inconsequential things, like regrowing dead flowers and trees, resurrecting birds who had fallen out of their nests, or even sending spirits to the next world. Geralt’s bard was so overwhelmingly kind.

Eventually Geralt learned that a power-exhausted Jaskier was an easy fix, and nothing to worry about. 

Which is what he kept telling himself as he tried to force down the panic swelling in his gut as he carried Jaskier’s limp body in his arms.

He was pale, so very pale, and a light sheen of sweat shone on his face. Geralt ached to wipe the smears of soot spread across his bard’s cheeks, but there was no time and they needed to hurry. Ciri ran by his side, shooting increasingly worried looks towards Jaskier’s still form as they ran to where Yennefer had promised to meet them for a quick escape via portal.

Nilfgaard was hot on their heels and Jaskier had managed to buy them a bit of time by cutting off the army from advancing further. Geralt shivered as he thought of the shake of the earth as it split apart into a great chasm at Jaskier’s will, and the screams of soldiers as skeletons crawled from the dirt and began to tear them limb from limb. The terror that shot through him when he saw Jaskier collapse to the ground, spent from a day of frightening displays of power.

It was all he could do to scoop the bard up from the ground and shout to Ciri to retreat. 

In the distance, the inn they had spent the night in loomed ahead and Geralt breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Yennefer’s form waiting near the entrance to the back alley, pacing impatiently. At the sound of their boots pounding into the pavement the witch turned to greet them, an irritated look on her face that melted into concern the moment she saw Jaskier limp in Geralt’s arms.

“What happened?” Yennefer asked, her hands reaching out to Jaskier’s forehead. Geralt grunted.

“Idiot overworked himself again. Did one of his fancy necromancer tricks to buy us some time. I don’t know what else he did today, but that’s not usually enough to do him in. He passed out cold.” Yennefer tsked, a finger tracing Jaskier’s cheek.

“Stupid, self sacraficing fool. I think we’re going to need to have another discussion about limits and crossing them. It’s not fair that we have to worry about him so often. When he wakes up, I’m going to kill him.”

“You’ll have to get in line” Geralt growled, holding the bard just a little bit tighter in his arms. Yennefer spared him a knowing smile, and clapped her hands together in a move very obviously inherited from too much time around Jaskier.

“Well, we better get going now. Army on our heels, bard in distress, etc etc.” They slipped into the darkened alleyway, luckily devoid of any nosey humans. Yennefer looked to Geralt.

“To Kaer Morhen then?” The witcher hmmed in confirmation. Yennefer summoned a portal and ushered Ciri through first. She then turned to Geralt.

“After you” Geralt wasted no time in stepping through the portal, not even paying his twisting stomach any mind. He had more important concerns at the moment. Jaskier. 

The witcher stepped quickly through the halls of the keep, waving vaguely in response to Vesemir’s nod from where he helped Ciri rid herself of dirt, and hurried up the stone steps. He pushed the door of his bedroom open with a kick of his foot and Yennefer followed closely behind. He set Jaskier down gently over the covers of his bed.

Geralt gave a grateful nod to the witch when he saw that she had had the forethought to summon water and rags. Yennefer went right to work examining Jaskier, even though they knew it was most likely just exhaustion, they had learned it was impossible to be too careful.

Geralt dipped one of the rags in the water, fortunately already heated. He began to clean the soot and sweat off of Jaskier’s face, already beginning to regain its color. Thank god for necromancer healing. 

Yennefer finished her examination, deeming Jaskier fine but in dire need of rest. She squeezed one slender hand to his shoulder before moving towards the door. 

“Vesemir said he’d be up soon with a plate of food for both you and Jask. Let me know when he wakes, I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.” She waited until Geralt gave a nod of confirmation before taking her leave, skirts swishing and hair still immaculate despite the near brush with death. 

Geralt turned to Jaskier, still lying prone on the bed. He took one of his hands within his own, fingers long and nimble. It was cold. But Jaskier’s hands were always cold, something about a necromancer’s close relationship with death inspired corpse-cold hands. It hardly mattered to Geralt. He’d hold his love’s hands even if they were coated in layers of ice (and they had done that).

It would be hours still until Jaskier would wake from his slumber. But Geralt would wait until he knew his bard was okay. He’d open his eyes and the first thing he would do would be to ask if everyone was okay, like he wasn’t the only one who had passed out. And then the room would be filled with Jaskier’s chatter, smiles, and his lovely blue eyes. 

But for now Jaskier was asleep and the silence cut into Geralt like one of Jaskier’s daggers. Geralt didn’t mind waiting however long it took for his bard to awaken.

Jaskier was worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clanking of armor drew nearer, and Jaskier gritted his teeth.
> 
> He knew what he had to do.

The first thing Jaskier thought when he woke up was something along the lines of, ‘Melitile’s tits, I thought being linked to Death was supposed to stop me from dying of searing head pain’.

And then he remembered. 

Nilfgaard, surrounding them on the outskirts of that backwater town. There were too many for Geralt to possibly fight off, even with the help of Jaskier and his daggers. 

Yennefer was waiting for them at the inn, what would she do if they never came? Would she realize they had been taken? Jaskier’s heart twisted at the thought of her face when she saw they wouldn’t be coming. 

Yennefer was tough as nails, but Jaskier knew of her deep rooted issues of abandonment. Long nights spent by the fire drinking copious amounts of wine and bitching had made them good friends, and caused them to share many secrets.

A gasp of alarm from Ciri pulled Jaskier out of his musings and back into their perilous present. Nilfgaard was advancing further and it wouldn’t be long until they were overwhelmed. Jaskier could tell from the stony expression of Geralt’s face that he was more than aware of this, and though he would never admit it, he was worried.

It would be a cold day in hell before Jaskier let anything happen to any of his family, not if he had any say in it. The bard was already exhausted from earlier, having sent several discreet parties of skeletons to dispatch a few rogue groups of Nilfgaardians in order to clear the way. 

Not enough, apparently. 

Well, it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time Jaskier had pulled from the core of his power when already depleted. Geralt was going to kill him when he found out. His darling witcher was still working on the whole ‘letting Jaskier go out and do stuff because he is actually quite capable of many things’ deal, and Jaskier running off and overusing his power without a care for himself was not making it any easier. 

Yennefer wasn’t very fond of it either and she had made that fact very clear, regardless of whether Jaskier was actually listening. Which really was quite unfair because it wasn’t like the two of them weren’t always gallivanting off and getting themselves injured, cursed, or what have you. For some gods forsaken reason everyone in Jaskier’s life had decided to baby and fuss over him at all costs and it made him even more angry that he didn’t even mind that much.

The clanking of armor drew nearer, and Jaskier gritted his teeth.

He knew what he had to do.

With a gentle hand he reached out and drew Ciri behind him, out of the reach of flashing weapons and other potential harm. It was a sign of how dire the situation was that she didn’t even bother to protest. 

The bard glanced over at Geralt, gripping his sword so hard it looked ready to break in two. The witcher turned and caught his eye and it was a sign of how well they knew each other that he immediately realized what Jaskier was about to do.

“Jask, no.” Jaskier steeled himself, not willing to back down.

“What other option do we have, Geralt? We’re surrounded on all sides.”

“We’ll find another way.” Geralt stepped forward, looming over the bard in a way that had long lost its ability to intimidate. 

“We don’t have time to find another way. We either get captured by Nilfgaard, or I get us out of this mess. I can do it, I’m more than capable-” Jaskier was halted by Geralt’s hand on his cheek. 

“I know you can do it.” Geralt paused, searching for words he didn’t have the time to express. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve never faced an army this big, I don’t know what I would do if-” He cut himself off, turning his head away so the bard wouldn’t see the emotion on his face. 

Jaskier took his face in both his hands. He could hear shouting amongst the clanking, surely Nilfgaard had discovered their footprints in the muddy earth by now, leading them to where they had taken shelter in a wooded grove, a massive tree blocking the path that would have been their escape. He looked into his lover’s amber eyes.

“Darling, I promise I’ll be fine. But right now the most important thing is getting Ciri somewhere safe. Then we’ll figure out the rest. Alright?” There was a moment where he and Geralt stared at each other, a million things said in one glance. He could see the moment Geralt gave in.

“Okay.” Jaskier barely had time to give Geralt a little smile, probably more like a grimace, before Ciri shrieked and the first soldier leaped into the clearing. After that they just kept coming, advancing closer and closer. Their gait was confident, from their angle the battle was all but won.

Not if Jaskier had anything to say about it.

He stepped out of Geralt’s grasp, and towards the oncoming danger. Jaskier closed his eyes and reached down deep inside himself, grinning when he felt the core of power. He grasped onto it, and pulled up. 

The bard, no in this moment he was the necromancer, knew without looking that his hands had begun to glow a subtle blue as his power came to the surface, twisting around his fingertips. If he opened his eyes, that same power would be present.

The ground began to rumble beneath his feet, the earth shaking loose from its slumber. With one hand, Jaskier reached out and let loose the well of power that had built up in his chest, overwhelming him.

The ground in front of him ripped apart, forming a chasm that swallowed up a number of men into inky black bottomless dark. The Nilfgaardians that remained blinked dumbly, but Jaskier wasn’t done yet. His family wouldn’t be safe until every last one was gone.

This time when Jaskier reached inside the power flowed willingly, and Jaskier called out into the depths of the Netherworld, and open hand outstretched and waiting. It wasn’t long before Jaskier heard an answer, a multiple of voices overlapping, coming to his aid.

Nilfgaardian soldiers began to shout in terror as the earth beneath their feet burst, and skeletons hauled themselves out into the land of the living. 

The shouts turned into screams of pain as the soldiers were ripped apart, their weapons useless against the undead hellbent on obeying their master. Jaskier allowed himself to grin as his enemies were taken down one by one. None would escape his wrath. 

It was then that Jaskier realized it was no longer the earth that was shaking, but him. His vision swam as his body desperately tried to recover from the incredible use of energy. Jaskier’s body was as much dependent on his necromancing abilities as any other bodily function, and when it was depleted his body had the annoying tendency to shut down until they could renew. 

The bard’s knees felt like they were made of jelly and he was dangerously close to falling to the ground. He turned around to look at Geralt and Ciri, the both of them staring at him with looks of awe. Geralt’s eyes reached him with a look of immense relief.

Jaskier smiled softly, the edges of his vision blurring in and out, beginning to sway in place. Geralt’s brow furrowed in concern, stepping towards his bard with his hands reaching out. His witcher was so sweet.

And then Jaskier’s world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I wasn't expecting to write more for this but all of you lovely people inspired me to write more! I'm thinking of wrapping this up as a 3 chapter fic, but I mayyyy or may not have a few ideas for a few extra chapters.
> 
> thoughts?
> 
> come find me on tumblr for more content like this! @innocentbi-stander

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me for more content on tumblr, @innocentbi-stander
> 
> thinking of expanding with another chapter...what do you think folks?


End file.
